This Is... Unexpected...

Conner ran up to me, screaming and crying. My sensitive best friend was being bullied again. We lived in a little known orphanage in Wisconsin. He gripped my over-sized shirttail and looked up at me with his big, blue eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Melanie.” He said, spitting the name out like bile.
“Her again?”
“Yeah.” He sniffed.
I pushed his blonde cowlick back and smiled into those gorgeous blue orbs. He was my age, 10, but he was like my baby brother. Conner had an unfortunate chubby figure and big, chubby cheeks.
“C’mon on, I’ll teach her once and for all not to make fun of you.” I said, putting up a brave front.
I was thin, seemingly like a stick, but I was strong. Most of the kids in the orphanage knew not to mess with Conner or they’d have to deal with me.
Melanie, on the other hand, was like a dog with a skunk. She just doesn’t get it, no matter how many times I pound the crap out of her.
“Hey! Melanie!” I said, walking over to her with my cocky gait.
“What’s up, Ambrose?” She asked in her too-chipper voice. Her thick, blonde braids swung around as she turned to me.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Stop messing with Conner!” I spat, getting in her face, ready to fight.
Her face turned sour, like I’d put a dent in the silver goblet that was her life.
“I haven’t been ‘messing’ with Conner. I’m just telling him why he won’t get adopted.” She said, hyper as always.
Instead of replying, I smacked her face. It echoed through the playground. All the kids dropped what they were doing. They walked over, beginning to chant.
“Fight, fight, fight, fight.”
She touched her face gingerly. “Did you just slap me?” She asked. Her happy mask popped its’ elastic.
“You’d better bet I did. And get this. I’ll do it again.” I said, glaring at her.
“No, you won’t.” She said, smacking my face.
I curl my fist and aim high, for that perfect nose…

Two hours later, after a strict lecture about how God doesn’t want his children fighting with each other and how fighting will not be tolerated in this respectable orphanage, I walk into the yard with a couple of scratches. Possible battle scars.
“You get in trouble?” Conner asks, appearing next to me.
“Nerp.” I go, stealing a glance at my ever opponent, the perfect Melanie. I’m proud of her pain, she’s got a tissue stuck up that ‘wonderful’ nose.
“Really? You almost broke her nose! I’m shocked.” He sits down in the grass and lies on his stomach.
“You shouldn’t be, Mr. Leonard loves a tough kid.” I answer, sitting next to him.
“He loves you, but Ms. Drivers hates any girl that isn’t frilly and pink.” Conner reminds me.
Ms. Drivers is the owner of our home. Like a warden with prisoners, she runs a tight ship. She’s tall, wearing her favorite black pumps with the thick heels just makes her taller, to look more intimidating, I guess. She has short, graying hair with a stupid, orange clip in it.
“Yeah, I know.” I say, inspecting my nails.
He rolls his eyes and picks a blade of grass.
“Ambrose,” I hear.
“Yesh?”
“You’re going to get it. Hurting Melanie like that.”
I glance up at who it is.
It’s a kid named Patrick; he has brown hair, long lanky arms and brown eyes.
“Why? You love her, or something?” I go, smirking arrogantly.
He goes red and rolls his eyes. Then he kicks a stone and walks away. He doesn’t have the courage to reply.
“I thought so.” I say, twirling my black hair on my finger. I roll onto my back and stare at the clouds as they lazily float on by.
“Hey, Ambrose?” I hear Conner ask. He’s got a strange tone of voice, like he’s almost scared.
“Yeah?”
“Why do you protect me all the time?” He asks, touching my arm, mimicking the same exact way I’d done to him when he’d first been dropped off. We’d been four years old…

It was a dark, stormy night… Ok, it was anything but dark and stormy. It was clear, with no moon, and I heard this screaming and crying, I knew a kid was coming in, only a kid could cry like that. The door opens and Ms. Drivers is tearing a kid away from his grandmother. I was struggling to get out of a pink dress that Ms. Drivers had slapped on me.
Ms. Drivers set the chubby, little blonde boy down in my room and he made a mad dash for the door. But his legs were short and hers were long and she beat him to the door. She closed the door and locked it from the outside.
“Grammy!!!” The kid was screaming. He pounded on the door until I dragged him away from the solid oak door.
When his sobs got quieter, I introduced myself, in an adorable little four-year-old way.
“I’m Ambrose. I’m four years old.” I said, stretching my hand out.
“I’m,” He sniffed. “I’m Conner O’Brady. I’m four, too.” He said.
I reach out and touched his arm. I knew my brown eyes were soft and kind on his blue eyes. I smiled a little.
“Well, what do you have to unpack?” I asked. Just as I’d said that, Ms. Drivers threw a small suitcase into the room and re-locked the door.
“Only a few pairs of clothes.” He said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
“No teddy bear or anything?” I asked, going through his suitcase.
“No… Grammy wouldn’t let me take him.”
I directed him to my bed and my teddy bear. “Here, you look tired, go to sleep. My teddy will have to do for now.” I said, unpacking for him. He snuggled into the comforter and sighed.
“Thank you, Ambrose.”

“Ambrose? Hey, Ambrose, you still there?” He asked, waving his hand over my face. “Why do you protect me all the time?”
“I think it’s because you’re like a baby brother to me.” I say.
He sighs and turns away from me.
“What? What’d I say, Conner?” I asked, I was always afraid of hurting his feelings.
“It’s nothing you said, Ambrose.” He said, forcing a smile. “I’m just trying to figure something out.”
I wanted to know, but before I could say anything, he got up and pulled me up too.
“C’mon, I wanna show you something.” He said. He dragged me into the woods, where we were never allowed to go because of Ms. Drivers’ fear of snakes.
“What?” I asked, pushing a stick out of my way.
“Shut up and follow me.” He said, glaring back at me.
“Ok, ok, Mr. Pushy.” I said, following.
Soon we came to a house, it had gingerbread-colored walls and an ugly color of orange roof. The look was complete with flowers in the sill and the smell of baking cookies. It looked like it belonged in a fairy tale.
“I come back here and watch the couple in here sometimes. I’ve seen the woman cry and the guy hold her and they cried together.” He said, holding my hand, still.
“Why do you think they do that?” I asked. As with every ten-year-old, adults were a mystery to me.
“I think they’re trying to have a baby.” He said.
“WHAT?!” I cried, my eyes widening. He clapped a hand over my mouth.
“Shut up, Ambrose. They’ll hear you.” He said, pointing to the little window.
I stared at the window and saw a woman with blonde hair move into view. She was crying now.
“She’s crying, Conner!” I hissed. “Maybe we should leave, this is a private moment for them.”
“Hold on, I just want to see him come and hold her.” He said, holding me still.
We didn’t have to wait long, as the man soon came into view and hugged her into his chest. I saw tears shining his face up.
When they walked away from the window, we got up and walked back into the orphanage yard.
“That felt weird, Conner. That was a private moment for them and we were watching.” I said.
“It was magical.” He said. “That’s what a family looks like.” He said, not even listening to me.
I sighed and put my arm around his shoulders. “I’m glad it’s summer, aren’t you?” I asked, changing the subject.
He nodded and we ran to our favorite game, paddleball. We played several games, and then watched the sunset.

That night was nothing like the day, however, since the clouds that had been floating so innocently by had come back and they were throwing rain at our house.
I heard Conner scream, and he ran into my room. He’d been terrified of thunder and lightning since he had to move out of my room.
“Conner, the lightning and thunder won’t hurt you in here.” I said as he snuggled under the covers with me.
“I know, but it’s still scary.” He said, getting a little closer to my body.
I couldn’t help but smile when I heard his breathing turn slow and calm.

But it couldn’t last because morning came and so did Mr. Leonard. He saw me curled around Conner’s sleeping body and I made a Shhhing noise. He walked across the room and bent down at the bed.
“What’s Conner doing in your bed, Ambrose? What if it’d been Ms. Drivers instead of me? She wouldn’t have let him keep sleeping, she’d whack you both a good one.” He said, stroking my black hair.
“He’s afraid of thunder and lightning, Mr. Leonard.” I said, patting Conner’s blonde hair.
“He’s got to be more afraid of Ms. Drivers, Ambrose. If she sees you like that…” He said, staring into my eyes with his bright green ones.
“I know, but what was I supposed to do? Let him be scared?” I asked, stroking his cheek. “He’s very sensitive, Mr. Leonard.”
“I know, I know.” He said. He got up and walked out the door. “Get up and get dressed, it’s Sunday.”
I heard him knocking on all the other kids’ doors.
“C’mon, wake up, Sleepyhead.” I said, shaking Conner’s out-cold body.
“Five more minutes.” He said firmly.
I rolled him off my bed.
“OW!” He said, rubbing his back. “What the heck was that for?” He protested, glaring up at me.
“It’s Sunday, and if you don’t get into your room, Ms. Drivers is going to see you.” I say, helping him up.
“Fine, fine, I’m going.” He said.
“Good, now look presentable.” I call after him. I could just see him rolling his eyes.
I put on a frilly, starchy and white dress, and pulled on some white tights.
When I was finally done, I walked out of the room and saw Conner in his Sunday best. A small tuxedo was his, passed down from his former roommate.
“’Ello, Conner,” I said, faking a British accent.
“Hey, Ambrose.” He said, not following my example. “You look nice. Not like a rough ‘n’ tough tomboy.”
Don’t get me wrong. I love looking nice, but not in a girly-girl way. And anyway, Ms. Drivers picked this out, not me.
“Don’t get used to it.” I said, pinching his chubby cheek.
He swatted my hand away and began to walk down the hall. I followed him and began to fiddle with my retarded collar.
“Leave it alone, Ambrose,” Ms. Drivers said, appearing in the hall. “You look very nice this morning. You didn’t brush this rat’s nest, though.” She said, raking her fingers through my long, black hair.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Drivers, but we were being rushed.”
“You should never be rushed on a Sunday. Sunday is a day of rest.” She said placidly.
“But don’t we have to get to church?” I asked, pointing in the direction to where the children were filing into the steeple.
“There is a couple, wanting to adopt.” She said, clearly irritated of being interrupted on Lord’s Day.
“What are they looking for?” Asked Conner, running up and coming to my side.
Ms. Drivers clicked her tongue in distaste. “They are looking for a blonde child. They don’t care whether or not it’s a girl or boy.”
Conner looked at me in hope.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Lardbar.”
“Shut up, Larry.” I shoot back at an older boy named Larry. He’s tall, blonde, and pimply.
“Why don’t you make me, Ambrose?” He says, sneering in my face.
Ms. Driver cuts in: “Children! I want you to be on your best behavior. Ambrose, go ahead and go into the church. Larry, Conner, come with me. And don’t start a fight, Larry.”
“Me?! Start a fight? No way!” He protests.
I walk back to the church with a bad feeling in my stomach.

An hour later, after church, I walk into Conner’s room. He’s sitting on the bed crying his eyes out.
I sit down next to him and rub his back. “I take it that they took someone else?” I said, grabbing a tissue.
“Yeah,” He said, blowing his nose.
“Who?”
“Larry,” He says, looking at me with a cute little smile.
“Hey! That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I ask, pulling him into a hug.
“I guess, but they wanted a teenager, to make them seem older. They’re going to hate that one day.” He said, sighing.
“Yeah, well…” I said wisely.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.
“I know, but… One of these days,” I say, not wanting to finish. I was going to say that one of these days someone’s going to come and take one of us.
I hoped it was him.
“Children!” Ms. Drivers called. “It’s lunch time!”
“C’mon, Conner, let’s go.” I said, getting up off his bed.
“I’ll catch up.” He said, taking off his tuxedo coat.
“All right, but if I don’t see you coming down, I’m going to get you.” I said, closing his door.

Lunch came and went. No sign of Conner. Come to think of it, there was no sign of any of the bully kids, either…
I got up from the table and ran up the stairs. I heard familiar sobbing.
“Lardbar thought he’d get adopted. What’s wrong with you, Lardbar?” I heard. I burst in and kicked the first not-blonde thing I saw.
“Who wants to get killed first?” I asked, holding up a fist. And then I noticed. THEY WERE TEENAGERS! Well shit… this’ll put a dampening on my awesome rep…
“What’d you say, brat?” One asked. He moved towards me threateningly.
“Yeah,” One jeered, getting closer.
I swallowed my fear. “I said, ‘Who wants to get killed first?’. You gonna do something about it?”
They laughed and one grabbed my arm. “We hear you’re the strongest brat on the playground. Wanna test that reputation?” He hissed.
“Why not? It should be fun.” I said sarcastically. They laughed.
“You’re going to die, Ambrose.” One whispered in my ear. Then he burst out laughing.
“Ambrose, don’t do this! You’re going to get hurt!” Conner said, gripping my shoulder.
I almost stopped. But I saw the tearstains on his face, and squared my shoulders. “I’ll do anything to keep you from getting hurt.” I said, tossing a glance in his way.
“Aw, that’s so sweet. Who knew the toughest girl on the playground was such a sweetheart?” Said the dude that was pulling me.
“Shut your face,” I snarled, kicking his shin.
“Make me,” He growled back.
“I’ll make you walk to the office.” Mr. Leonard said, wrenching the guy’s arm away from me.
“Yes Mr. Leonard.” The guy said obediently. He began to walk to the office and Mr. Leonard sighed.
“Ambrose… why do you pick such impossible fights?” He asked, ruffling my hair.
“I coulda taken him.” I said stubbornly.
“Ambrose, you shouldn’t worry about Conner, he can take care of hims-”
“You don’t understand, Mr. Leonard! Everyone either beats on him or calls him names! The only way they stop is if I get on their case!” I interrupt, flailing my arms.
“I understand perfectly well, honey.” He said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I used to be the kid they messed around with.”
I look at him and don’t figure anyone would mess with him. He’s got a big nose, long gangly arms and legs and long torso. Altogether a guy anyone would keep away from.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true. Being tall wasn’t a good thing when it came to being the youngest.” He said, patting my head.
Then he got up and walked to the office. “Remember, Ambrose, he’ll be fine!”
“Yeah, in his grave,” I muttered.
I turned back and went into Conner’s room. He was sobbing harder. “Hey, you ok?” I asked, sitting down next to him.
“Do I look ok?” He snapped, glaring at me.
“No, but that’s no reason to snap at me like that!” I say, standing up quickly. “I was trying to help!”
For some reason, I start to cry and sit back down and hug him.

That’s it for now! WHEW! I’m bushed!